


Herculean Tasks

by SaturnianDreamer



Category: Space Cases (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Boss/Employee Relationship, Character Development, Childhood Memories, Children, Co-Parenting, Co-workers, Confessions, Conspiracy, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Episode Related, Episode Tag, F/M, Father Figures, Fatherhood, Gen, Government Conspiracy, Hidden Talents, Meddling, Memory Related, Motherhood, Parent-Child Relationship, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Protective Parents, Protectiveness, STARDOGS, Secrets, Starcademy, Teacher-Student Relationship, Team as Family, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:05:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16371638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnianDreamer/pseuds/SaturnianDreamer
Summary: The year is 2261. The conditions surrounding Commander Seth Goddard's demotion don't add up. With hints of Sol System-wide corruption in the United Populated Planets and a government conspiracy hitting close to home, how is he to make a difference when he is "grounded" as a teacher at the Starcademy military school on the outer rim? Of course things get even more complicated when his lifelong mentor, James Davenport, requests a favor. So. Expose a government conspiracy, be a champion for marginalized students, protect his mentor's daughter, and teach a band of misfit kids while operating under the radar with the hopes of getting back into space by the end of it all. Simple, right?





	1. A Tall Order

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InvisibleNinjaPirate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvisibleNinjaPirate/gifts).



> I don't own Space Cases. I just miss it a whole lot. Shout out to InvisibleNinjaPirate for the initial UPP conspiracy idea.

Commander Seth Goddard paced around his Starcademy quarters as he dialed his mentor's vidphone number and waited for him to pick up. When James Davenport's face appeared on the screen, Seth didn't even bother with a "hello."

"I hate doing this," Seth grumbled. "I hate being the bad guy."

"I am doing well, thank you Seth. How are you?" the older man offered, trying to be lighthearted while making a point.

"Sorry, Sir. I'm just very frustrated and wanted to cut to the chase. I need your help."

"It is better to play the part than to become the very thing you are trying to fight," James advised through the screen.

"I know. I just wish your daughter didn't hate me."

James chuckled. "T.J. does not hate you." 

"So she only uses colorful language with Starcademy staff members she actually likes? Noted," Seth retorted sarcastically. 

"Interesting," James mused with a knowing smile. "She's never been prone to using 'colorful language' as you put it. I wonder where she picked that up."

"Grozit, this is a mess," Seth grumbled.

James tilted his head in question. "Speaking of 'colorful language,' did you just use a Saturnian expletive?"

Seth put his head in his hands. "Too much time around my students." 

"There is a Saturnian girl in your class, yes? The one with the invisible friend?"

"Imaginary friend. And yeah." Seth paused to run his free hand through his sandy brown hair, streaked with grey at the temples. "Sir, T.J. is smart. She's insanely smart. She's bound to put the pieces together sooner or later or at least admit to herself that something doesn't add up. And you know she won't leave things well enough alone. She'll probably wind up hacking into the Headmistress's email and—"

"I am aware," James conceded with a nod as he adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles. "My daughter is quite curious. In spite of her by-the-book attitude, she does have a history of poking her nose where it does not belong if she gets the slightest whiff of injustice. You two are very much alike in that way."

"So what am I supposed to do? She's unknowingly working for the enemy. How do I keep her safe from that?"

"it would seem to me that you have two options."

Seth frowned. “I think I have to tell her. I've got three weeks to figure this out and either crack this conspiracy wide open or get T.J. out.” He shook his head. “But this place and her career...it's her life. She wants to assist in governing a prestigious school that stands for inclusivity: one that teaches diplomacy and promotes peace and defends the rights of all members of the United Populated Planets, regardless of race. She’s…” He trailed off.

“Yes?” 

“People around her are using the school as a breeding ground for xenophobia and violence. Everything you’ve done and everything she’s trying to do…” Seth clenched his fists. “And the STARDOGS and everything I’ve been fighting for... I mean, Space only knows what's really going on with the Andromedan colony!"

"It is a tall order, I am aware," James acknowledged.

"You can say that again. So on my agenda for the day: expose UPP corruption, be a champion for marginalized students, protect my mentor's daughter, and teach a band of misfit kids while operating under the radar with the hopes of getting back into space by the end of it all. Piece of cake." Seth sat down on the edge of his unmade bed with a frustrated sigh.

"But you are doing the right thing. And we are most fortunate that with the rules in place, you are giving my daughter enough paperwork to distract her from the truth, at least for now."

"I can only be late for so many meetings before she gives up on me."

James grinned. "Seth, my boy, she would never give up on you."

"Why not? As the Assistant Principal, it's her job is to enforce the rules. If I break them all, she'll just get fed up with me. It's not like she even cares." 

"She just may care more than you realize." 

"Sir?" 

"She wouldn't contact me to rant about your latest list of infractions so often if she did not care. She used to call me once a week before you started working at the Starcademy. Do you know how often she calls now?" 

Seth shook his head. 

"Every other day. Our discussions tend to last the better part of an hour. That is a lot of time spent talking about someone who doesn't matter. Wouldn't you say?" 

"What does she say about me?" Seth wondered carefully. 

James grinned. "If you wish to find out the answer to that question, you would need to ask T.J. yourself." 

"What am I supposed to do? Just waltz into her office with a cup of coffee and ask to chat?" 

"Of course not." James grinned and his eyes twinkled. "Tea, of course. Two sugars." 

Goddard scrubbed his hand down his face. "Space help me." 

* * *

 

Goddard trudged down the Starcademy corridors with a frown on his face. He carried two beverage containers—one in each hand—and garnered odd looks from the staff and students he passed in the halls. The truth was he could have used two cups of coffee, but only one of the beverages was meant for him. 

"G-good morning, Commander Goddard," Radu offered with a small nod. 

Seth stopped and offered the academy's sole Andromedan student a reassuring smile. "Good morning, Mr. Radu. Everything okay today?" 

The shy boy bowed his head to stare at the floor. His long curly blond hair fell into his face as he stammered, "Yes, Sir. Th-thank you. Y'know, for, uh, for standing up for me last week?" 

Goddard nodded, not wishing to make a big deal of the incident. "You're welcome. Let me know if there's anything else on your mind, okay?" 

Radu licked his lips nervously. "Yes, Sir." 

Goddard turned to continue walking toward the administrative offices when he came face-to-face with perhaps his most problematic student, Harlan Band.

"Commander," Harlan greeted his teacher while glaring toward Radu. 

"Mr. Band," Goddard offered in warning, noticing Radu shuffling behind him. "Anything going on that I should know about?" 

"No, Sir," the young athletic Earther stated, the defiance in his voice evident. 

"Better keep it that way," Goddard offered as he continued on. Over his shoulder, he added, "Or I know for a fact a certain assistant principal will give you all kinds of hell." 

The Headmistress happened to round the corner then. She huffed at Goddard. "Language, Commander!" she admonished him. 

"Bite me," he muttered, without giving her a second glance. 

"What was that?" 

"Good morning!" he offered brightly with a fake smile plastered on his face. "Did you do something different with your hair? Love it." 

The headmistress preened a bit, touching up her hairdo, which Goddard thought resembled the Bride of Frankenstein's: large jet black curls defied gravity in an odd comical flattop. 

Rosie Ianni beamed at everyone, wishing all the students good morning individually by name as she practically skipped down the hall. The Mercurian paused to chirp a "good morning" to her teacher and the headmistress as well. She'd overheard Goddard's comments on the headmistress's style and added, "I wish I had hair so I could try that. It looks great, Ma'am!" 

The second the headmistress turned away, Goddard made a face of disgust behind her back and mock-shuddered, causing Rosie to shrug and both Radu and Harlan to chuckle. The two boys gave each other a questioning glance before Harlan's scowl reappeared and he continued on his way. Seth waited for Rosie to start talking to Radu and for Harlan to turn the corner before nodding again in the Andromedan's direction and venturing toward the administrative offices. He doubled his pace when he passed Catalina and Bova. 

The Saturnian girl tucked a strand of her rainbow hair behind her ear as she turned to the empty space next to her and whispered, "Grozit, he's bringing Miss Davenport coffee? Suzee, how long before we start planning their wedding?" 

Bova shook his head and even his antenna seemed to bob in disagreement. "Nah. One of them will kill the other first." 

Goddard groaned and turned to glare at the kids. Neither seemed fazed. Catalina giggled as Bova shrugged and offered, "Rest in peace, Commander."

* * *

 

Assistant Principal T.J. Davenport leaned forward on her desk and rested her chin in her hands with a heavy sigh. She frowned as she glanced around her Starcademy office at the placards adorning her walls: certificates and awards boasting her achievements. Her life had been so simple before. She'd put in a lot of hard work, certainly, but at least she felt as if she had her head on straight. Now though, she was in charge of monitoring Commander Seth Goddard: former STARDOG Captain, former heartthrob, and current thorn in her side. 

_Be honest with yourself, you still think he's handsome._ She rolled her eyes and groaned at her inner voice. Yes, she'd harbored a schoolgirl crush on him once upon a time, yes she'd admired his work when he moved quickly through the ranks as a military man in the STARDOGS, and yes she might have fantasized about him as she grew older. But the experience of meeting him in person had been like getting doused with cold water and a hefty dose of reality. He was not the man from her father's stories that she grew up admiring: he'd broken the law, been stripped of his rank, and was bitter about his entire existence. The Headmistress had put her in charge of monitoring his progress as an instructor at the Starcademy as he relearned the rules he'd broken so he could later practice what he preached. This left T.J. as a glorified babysitter who was paid to tattle on the man she once dreamed of— 

She groaned again, folding her arms in front of her and resting her head on her desk. She'd vent to her father almost everyday about the latest drama the now-commander was causing, and James Davenport, who'd once held her position at the Starcademy, merely chuckled and smiled, encouraging T.J. to see past Goddard's frustration and apparent disregard for authority—that the man she admired was still underneath the scarred exterior. 

"Miss Davenport?" 

T.J. lifted her head to see the subject of her wandering thoughts standing in her doorway. Goddard wore his trademarked knowing lopsided smirk: the one that wholly disarmed her. She retaliated by glaring at him to overcompensate and noticed when his concentration wavered. She wondered if perhaps this maneuver of hers was _his_ undoing. But no, then that would mean... 

She cleared her throat and stood, sparing a brief glance at the clock on her wall. Her crisp British accent was pronounced when she addressed him. "Commander? We are not scheduled to meet." 

"Nope." 

"And you have not, to my knowledge, done anything that requires me to lecture you about regulations and procedure today." 

His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. "It's still early." 

T.J. shook her head and swiped her auburn fringe out of her eyes before getting to the point. "May I ask what brings you to my office?" 

"I can't just stop by to say hello? I brought you tea from the canteen: English breakfast, two sugars." 

It was only then she noticed he was carrying two travel cups: one she assumed contained coffee (black, as he preferred it) and one containing her standard tea order. 

"That was very thoughtful of you," she said, crossing the room to meet him and hesitantly accept the beverage. 

"Relax, I didn't do anything to it. Promise." 

"You cannot blame me for proceeding with caution, what with your behavior lately," she defended herself. "You've been no better than your students who, by the way, tried to glue me to my chair again this morning." 

Goddard made a pitiful attempt at covering a laugh with a cough. "I'll have to talk to them about that." He glanced at her desk. "So the chair you were just using...?" 

"Is borrowed from another member of staff." She shifted uncomfortably.

"And your chair...?" 

"Was once identical to the principal's in every way." She cleared her throat. "As of this morning, there is now one significant difference." 

Goddard gaped at her in shock. 

"Your students did not mean to glue the _principal_ to her chair, you see. So you can honestly say that they are not to blame for the incident if you are asked." 

"You... But... Why...?" 

"Perhaps I'm spending too much time around you. Or perhaps I am just growing tired of filling out paperwork for you and your students. Or perhaps I dislike the principal as much as you and the children do." She took a small sip of her drink and hummed in approval. "This tea is from the canteen, you said?" 

Seth was still processing what T.J. had done. He snapped out of his stupor with an, "Uh, yeah."

"How is it you've used their meager supplies to prepare a better cuppa than I've ever managed?"

He shrugged, recovering with his usual dry wit. "Guess it's one of my many talents." 

"Yes, well, thank you for the tea, but I do not have time to chat right now. I have an administrative meeting scheduled in fifteen minutes that I am required to attend. I'd hoped the Headmistress would be otherwise occupied, however I do not think I will be that lucky " 

"What's the meeting about?" It was an odd question, and Seth ran his free hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned against the doorframe. 

T.J. quirked an eyebrow at him. She didn't see the harm in telling him. "It would appear we are to discuss admitting more Andromedan students. Several members of the Starcademy Board are against the idea, given Mr. Radu's less-than-stellar performance." 

Seth cocked his head to the side, and T.J. swore she noticed actual concern on his face. She also now noticed that he was blocking her way out. "They have to know that one student's performance doesn't reflect the potential of an entire race of people." 

"Nor is his current performance indicative of his own skills," T.J. added with a sigh. "He appears to be extremely bright, though painfully shy. And the poor boy is being relentlessly bullied. During one such incident last week, I believe you were the one who intervened." 

"Radu knows his own physical strength, so he refuses to fight back. The last thing he wants to do is hurt someone. You and I both know he could snap someone in half with his pinky without even trying." 

"I would say that you are using hyperbole, but you are not that off the mark," T.J. conceded.

"I found him curled up in a ball on the floor as a group of entitled asshole kids beat up on him. I broke up the mob." 

"And slammed a student against the wall in the process." 

"I pushed Harlan away after he dared to take a swing at me too." Goddard took a sip of his coffee and shrugged. "Wasn't my fault the wall was there. Oddly I haven't been reprimanded by the 'Headmistress of Frankenstein' for that one yet," Seth mused. 

T.J. had been taking a sip of her tea and sputtered as she tried to swallow her beverage and laugh at the same time. She ended up coughing and dribbling a good amount of tea on the floor as she hunched over, careful not to spit the drink all over herself or Goddard. 

"You okay?" Seth wondered. The smile was back again, but there was also a look of genuine concern that flitted across his features momentarily. 

T.J. brought a hand to her chest as she coughed once more before clearing her throat. "I am fine, thank you." 

"So, are you gonna write me up for that?" 

"We shall see," T.J. mused. "However, whether or not I remember to file all of my reports is another matter entirely." 

Seth blinked back his surprise. "This isn't like you." 

"I do not know what you mean." She gave a shy smile in return. "Back to the matter at hand: Mr. Band's tendency to lash out is definitely cause for concern. And the high expectations and emotional trauma, in addition to the language barrier, have the deck stacked against poor Mr. Radu. He has come to me with his concerns—and I admire that he took that step to ask for help. I've attempted to issue disciplinary action toward those who have given him grief, but the rest of the staff have not properly enforced those punishments. I've even held private tutoring sessions with Radu in the hopes that additional instruction would help his grades improve. I’ve learned some Andromedan to better understand where there may be potential for confusion as Radu works on his English and Universal. Sadly, it would seem you and I are the only ones looking out for him." 

Seth had no idea the lengths T.J. was going to help Radu. He felt guilty he wasn’t doing more, even when one could argue he was taking on too much already. "Rosie has been kind to him," he offered, instead. 

T.J. smiled softly. "Yes, it is in her nature to see the best in everyone. It is a shame her grades have slipped so much. Though I don't know how well she would do out in space, as impressionable as she is. She is entirely too trusting." T.J. blinked as she considered the man before her. She came to a realization, "For as much as you complain about the class of students you've been assigned, you do seem to care about their wellbeing, Commander." 

He shrugged. "For as much as you complain about being assigned to monitor me, you seem to care about my wellbeing." 

The comment took her by surprise. "Well, Father seems to still believe in you. You were his brightest pupil, and once held a record of accomplishments to which other students aspired. You may have 'fallen from grace' as it were, but you were once very noble indeed. I suppose I hope that once you conclude your pity party, you will acknowledge your potential and rise to the occasion. It would make everyone's job a lot easier and may even benefit the students if you were to cease your juvenile nonsense and apply yourself to teaching; that way they could succeed with your guidance. I believe your students could learn a great deal from you." 

Goddard swallowed thickly. He hadn't considered that he had been sabotaging Radu with his calculated "nonsense." T.J. would vote to allow more Andromedans into the Starcademy, and her absence from the meeting she was supposed to attend would only serve to once again "stack the deck against Radu" and his entire race. Seth's heart sank. He couldn't win. "I've been given a Herculean task," he whispered. 

"Surely your students are not lost causes, like many believe them to be," T.J. stated matter-of-factly. Gently, she added, "Just as you are not a lost cause, like others may believe you to be...or even perhaps as you believe yourself to be." 

Something shifted between them as she looked up at him with kind eyes and a sympathetic smile. How she continued to have faith in him after everything he'd done was a mystery. Yes, she often lectured him, but anyone else would have given up on him ages ago with the number of stunts he'd pulled. She admitted she'd been going easy on him and trying to help him when most people would have recommended he be fired and forbidden from teaching ever again. He was a distraction from her responsibilities, and he would surely ruin her career if he continued, even if he had the noblest intentions. In trying to protect her, he'd failed to see the bigger picture. 

"I've failed so many people," Seth whispered in a moment of vulnerability. 

"Is that why you've set out to sabotage yourself?" T.J. wondered. "If it has been your goal to disappoint me, you have not succeeded in doing so. Father and I still have hope for you." 

"I don't deserve it."

"Well. Agree to disagree. Davenports can be very determined."

"You mean stubborn?" 

She didn't miss a beat. "If you like. Regardless of what you choose to call it, Father insists that you do share this quality with me, and indeed with him. Best to pick a name that makes it sound like a strength rather than a weakness, wouldn't you say?" 

"Touché." Seth took a deep breath before stepping aside. "Better get to your meeting," he offered with a frown. 

T.J. held his gaze for a moment, searching his eyes and wondering what had caused him to suddenly appear so somber. "Thank you for the tea, Commander," she offered kindly.

His eyes were downcast as she brushed past him. "It's literally the least I could do," he all but whispered.


	2. No Good Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth has three weeks to expose the corruption at the Starcademy, but the conspiracy goes even deeper than anyone initially thought. When an unknown alien vessel docks at the school and his students go missing...that's when the adventure really begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own Space Cases.

"Well she more or less admitted that she's stopped tallying my infractions, so I might have to step up my game if the plan is to bury her in paperwork, Sir."

James studied Seth through the viewscreen, watching the younger man rub the back of his neck as he paced about his rooms. "There is something else troubling you." 

It wasn't a question.

Goddard quirked an eyebrow. "How do you do that?"

"You have a few tells, my boy," James informed him.

Seth paused and grumbled as his hand dropped to his side. "Yeah, I'll work on that. It’s just that today I realized that by looking after your daughter, I'm neglecting the bigger picture. We're allies to the Andromedans. Your daughter and I are the only ones here looking after Radu. If I keep pulling T.J. out of important policy meetings to protect her—"

"Then her voice will not be heard," James finished. "I take it you allowed her to attend such a meeting today?"

Seth hung his head. "Yes, Sir."

"May I also assume that you hovered outside the Board Room to keep an eye on her?"

"I'm not even going to ask how you know that, but yeah.” Seth sighed and explained, “I was worried. T.J. is becoming a bit...rebellious."

James blinked back his surprise. "Rebellious, you say? How so?"

"It blindsided me, too. She hasn't been writing me up. She jokingly blamed me, saying I was a bad influence. And then she admitted to using the kids’ latest prank as a diversion, which took some of the heat off of me and caused some issues for one of the other more  _ problematic _ members of staff."

James offered a curious smile. "What exactly has Theresa done?"

"Oh, y’know, rearranged some furniture that may or may not now be stuck to the rear end of a more senior administrator."

James laughed heartily. "Good for her! T.J. deserves to have a bit of fun every now and then."

Seth chuckled and shook his head, admitting, "I mean, it was a  _ little _ funny. But it was risky, and that really isn’t like her. I guess she hoped the Headmistress would miss the meeting or something? I don’t know. This whole thing is just..." Seth reached his hand up to the back of his neck again but thought better of it. "As far as I know, everything worked out today in terms of the big picture. It could have been better, but it could’ve been worse. The Board is split fifty-fifty on whether to admit more Andromedan students. If T.J. hadn't been there—if I'd really done my job and protected her like you asked me to—the decision would probably already be made to send Radu packing."

"It sounds like you may have more allies than you first realized."

Seth nodded as he processed this information. "Perhaps. But now your daughter and these other ‘allies' have targets on their backs. Big picture win, but at a cost, Sir. And I can't just keep hanging around T.J. for no good reason. People will start talking."

James laughed at that. "Oh Seth, my boy! People are already talking!"

"Fantastic," Goddard muttered drolly.

"My daughter could do far worse," James teased.

Seth groaned and felt his face turning red in embarrassment. "I can't make this about feelings. It's about survival."

James grinned. "Now that is interesting."

"What is?"

"Who said anything about feelings?"

"Sir, please. I can't let you down. And I can't let her down. And I can't let Radu down. Some good people have already had unfortunate things happen to them on my watch, and I refuse to let that pattern continue.” 

"The circumstances surrounding Captain Band's death were—"

"Not my fault," Seth finished. "So I've been told. I still don't know if I believe that."

"And his son being in your class with Mr. Radu—"

"Is really not helping things, no. Look, I know you believe in me. And it helps. But this whole situation has spiraled out of control. I'm doing my best, but I don't know that my best is good enough."

"I might have heard something similar during another discussion earlier today," James mused. "From what I gather, you and this individual have made a little game out of proving each other wrong. In this particular instance, I'd like this game of yours to continue. Between the two of you, I firmly believe you can do anything."

"With all due respect, subtlety is not your strong suit, Sir.”

"My days of being subtle are over. Especially when discussing matters with you and T.J. So stubborn, the both of you."

"I think 'determined' is the word she used," Seth quipped before he could stop himself. He shook his head. "I've got three weeks. I need to tell her everything: the big picture stuff. This is going to crush her. I don’t want to do that to her."

James considered this. “And I wouldn’t wish an angry, hysterical Theresa on anyone.”

Seth cleared his throat. “Your words, Sir. Not mine.”

"I am under no illusions; I am aware my daughter can be quite difficult when her anxiety peaks. Always has been. Her temper tantrums when she was little were quite spectacular.” 

Seth chuckled at the thought of a little precocious T.J. shouting, stomping her feet, and even wagging her finger at her own parents. “I can only imagine. She doesn’t seem to do anything halfway.”

“Truer words were never spoken. I can help ease the blow this time. I am actually on a shuttle now. I had planned to discuss ‘the big picture stuff,’ as you say, with T.J. after our father-daughter outing to the theater tonight. And then you and I will have the weekend to talk and calm her down."

“Be careful, Sir." 

Knowing that James would be available to help in-person was a bit of a relief. But Seth also didn't want his mentor making himself a target. 

"Don't worry about me. I have some friends in high places. I will introduce you. In the meantime, I would like to know what is going on back an the Andromedan colony: the conditions there, how the Andromedans are settling into their new home, and how the UPP and the STARDOG officers are treating them. Is there any way you could broach this topic with Mr. Radu?"

"I can try," Goddard offered. "The poor kid was afraid to come to me to ask for help with his homework, so I doubt getting information about the Collective or his homelife will be easy."

"But you did say you were making strides with him. T.J. has made similar comments. Radu appears to have a great amount of trust in you both, especially since you came to his rescue last week."

Goddard quirked an eyebrow. "I mentioned breaking up that fight in passing. What has T.J. been saying about me?"

"You mean to tell me the tea didn't work? Perhaps if you take her out to a nice dinner, then she might open up and—"

"Sir!" Goddard blushed and scrubbed his hand down his face as James laughed at his expense. "This is really not the time for—"

The chime to his quarters rang, and Seth looked at the timepiece on his bedside table. "I'm late for supervising Free Study."

"That'll be T.J. come to fetch you, then?"

Goddard nodded. "Safe travels, Sir. See you soon."

"See you soon, my boy."

Goddard ended the transmission and pocketed his compupad before taking a breath and opening the door to be greeted by a glaring T.J.

"Commander..."

Seth cleared his throat and avoided looking her directly in the eyes. Did she even know what the combination of her glare and pout did to him?  _ Space help me, _ he thought. "Miss Davenport." He retaliated with his signature smile and was pleased to note she briefly lost her composure.

"Once again, you are late for supervising your own students. And once again, I've had to be 'the bad guy' and deliver the news that they will not be permitted to go on their field training exercise due to their poor marks last quarter. None of them are happy."

Goddard brushed past her and headed down the hallway, away from the living quarters and toward the common areas and classrooms. Being around T.J. lately was giving him emotional whiplash: she was playful one minute and seething the next. He supposed he couldn't blame her, given the hoops she'd been jumping through and the grief he’d been giving her. And maybe his attitude wasn't any better. 

"Are you more upset that you had to break the news, that they failed, or that I failed them?" Seth wondered. "Earlier today you said you weren't ready to give up on me yet."

"I do not want to give up on anyone, Commander," T.J. reassured him, walking a step behind. "But there is a lot of pressure from the higher-ups to, and I quote, 'deal with the Goddard situation.' And I admit I may have made a slight error in judgment when I had my bit of fun this morning. While it was amusing for a moment, the Head is now more temperamental than usual. She will have  _ my _ head soon enough."

Goddard stopped abruptly, and T.J. ran into him as he whirled around to face her. "Did she threaten you?" he asked, deeply troubled.

T.J. laughed at the absurdity of it all. "It was a figure of speech, Commander."

He wasn't convinced. "Who exactly is talking about 'the Goddard situation'?"

"Commander, what is going on?"

"Never mind. Later. We can talk later," he decided, forging ahead to the classroom.

"I know you care about the students, but they will flunk out without your guidance," T.J. cautioned as she followed after him. "I do not understand why you refuse to do your job."

"I'm a little overwhelmed right now." If he could just wait until James arrived to explain everything, he would be okay. He muttered to himself as he reevaluated his priorities, "Big picture: on the backburner again. Slightly smaller picture?" He spared a glance at T.J. "Ongoing. And onwards we go to ‘Mission: Attention to Detail.’"

"Commander, what are you on about?"

"I want to help the students. I do. Maybe we could use Free Study as an opportunity for both of us to work with them. Two birds, one stone."

"I have other duties to which I must attend. I cannot hover around you every waking moment."

"That makes two of us."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You don't understand," Goddard grumbled as he approached the classroom and the doors parted.

"I am asking you to help me understand, and you are flat-out refusing to explain  _ and _ refusing to do your job."

"Trying to teach them anything is tough enough, Miss Davenport. And now you expect me to babysit them during their...?" He trailed off as he glanced around the empty room. 

T.J. sighed from behind him. It wasn't the first time the kids took off when they'd been left unsupervised. As Goddard walked further into the room, something out the window caught his eye. His heart fell into his stomach as he saw the alien vessel docked outside.

_ Strange alien ship, plus missing kids, equals... _

Seth raced from the room trying to formulate a plan as he ran toward the docking station. Had hostile aliens kidnapped the students? Or had the students wandered onto the ship? Were there unknown aliens walking around the Starcademy? Why was the ship flying so close to the school? Was the UPP involved in any way, or was this completely separate from anything Seth had uncovered? Was the school targeted specifically? Who within the school was a person of interest?

"Commander Goddard!" the Headmistress bellowed as he rushed past her. "No running in the halls!"

He ignored her.

"Davenport!" The Headmistress grabbed T.J. by the arm on her way past her office. "What in the universe are you doing?"

Seth whirled around instantly to see T.J. frozen in place, trying to formulate an explanation. James had said people were already talking about how much time T.J. and Seth spent together. Seth didn't care what other people thought, but he knew T.J. did. Weighing his options, he decided he'd rather have her hate him than risk putting her in potential in danger. Plus, there were worse cover stories, and Seth had definitely thought of and discarded most of them.

"Sorry. Can't talk now. Explain later," was all Seth managed to say as he grabbed T.J.'s other hand and pulled her down the hall with him.

"Davenport, get back here!" the Headmistress shouted.

T.J. ran alongside Seth as she continued to war with herself. "We should alert security," she suggested. "Protocol states—"

"No time for protocol. Stick with me. I'll explain everything later, I promise."

"You keep saying that. When exactly is  _ later _ ?"

"I don't know, just...later!"

T.J. skidded to a halt by the airlock as Seth headed into the spaceway. "Why weren't you watching the students? What is going on that has you so anxious and distracted?" She'd never seen him this distraught before. She was angry with him for being irresponsible and dishonest, especially after she'd repeatedly stuck her neck out for him. "If I am to keep putting my job on the line for you, you owe me an explanation!"

"We don't have time for this right now! Do you trust me?" It was a loaded question that, honestly, could have gone either way. But he needed to know. "I'm one hundred percent sure those kids are on that ship. I'm going in after them. Do you trust me?"

When she didn't reply after a long moment, he looked away.

"Seth?" She reached for his hand and stepped into the airlock with him. "You are infuriating," she told him, straightening up to her full height and pushing him away.

_ Space hates mixed signals _ , Seth thought to himself as the two of them continued into the ship.

"In case you are wondering, I  _ will  _ be writing a report to document this incident," she told him as she examined the design of the ship with a mix of awe and anxiety.

"You're the one who left the room," Seth grumbled, even though he knew T.J. wasn't to blame.

"Excuse me?  _ You _ are the one who was supposed to be in the room to begin with! If you care about the students so much, then do your bloody job!  _ This _ situation we are in right now is all  _ your _ fault!"

Goddard rolled his eyes. "They sneak off the Starcademy and onto this ship, and it's my fault?"

"You should have been watching them!" Davenport retorted. "If someone were to call himself a teacher—"

"No! What I call myself is a former starship captain busted in rank for no good reason and reassigned as a fleet instructor."

"No good reason? That's not what I hear."

"Well whatever you heard, you heard wrong!" Goddard fired back.

_ No good reason.  _ That was a lie. 

He was sick of lying to her. 

_ Later _ , he reminded himself. 

He'd tell her the truth later...


	3. A Good Idea at the Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In addition to having the crew maintain a schedule that included classes and command post training aboard the Christa, T.J. and Seth had arranged periodic meetings to review the children’s academic and personal progress. After the events of "Forever Young," one such discussion leads to some surprising confessions.

Over the months that passed, “later” seemed to stretch into the realm of “never.” Seth was content to have it that way, if he was honest with himself. The more time he spent with T.J. and the students, the harder it seemed to be to come clean. He was keeping his secrets to protect them, after all. Light-years away from the Starcademy, he felt a sense of freedom. Away from the lies and red tape, he could finally command a crew. He was good at that. And T.J. no longer had to deal with bureaucracy and administrative work. She could focus on teaching. She was good at that.

The time since they’d left the Starcademy hadn’t been easy by any stretch of the imagination. Radu had been infected by an alien virus: a relic of yet another war. Seth had argued with T.J. then. Still adjusting to his role as the children’s guardian, he’d defaulted to being a commander and revealed a bit of residual prejudice he didn’t know he’d been harboring. T.J. had called him out on it immediately, citing the need to maintain amiable relationships between the students. 

“This isn’t about people’s feelings, Miss Davenport. It’s about survival. If Radu’s turned against us, then blood is going to be a lot worse than bad,” he had replied in exasperation. 

Feelings vs. survival: he’d once used the same argument against James. Seth noted after the fact that neither father nor daughter had argued. 

Then came the compromise with scheduling. In addition to having the crew maintain a schedule that included classes and command post training, T.J. and Seth had arranged periodic meetings to review the children’s academic and personal progress. A few adventures had caused them to miss some of their discussions: an encounter with a Spung killcruiser was all the excuse T.J. needed to postpone the first time. Their second missed meeting occurred because they’d been turned into children by Ninestein, and they felt having a food fight was a more productive use of their time (as any 12-year-old would). Which brought them to the week after. 

Seth entered the classroom to find T.J. sitting primly on the bleacher seats, working on her compupad. He sat next to her and slouched as he booted up his own portable computer and reviewed some of his notes. 

“I’ve been keeping a journal, but I don’t know how much help it will be.” He shrugged. “It’s been a weird few weeks.” 

“That it has,” she agreed. “What would you like to tackle first? The incident with the Ferna Herna? Elmira? Ninestein?” 

Seth quirked a smile. “Actually, I thought we could discuss the fact that you’ve got a hell of a throwing arm.” 

T.J. blushed and rolled her eyes. “Very funny, Commander.” 

“Come to think of it, how did you even know to exact your revenge? Cat didn’t fess up until after.” 

Her focus remained on her computer screen. “I have my secrets and you have yours,” she replied cheekily. 

Seth’s blood ran cold. “Wh-what?” 

T.J. didn’t seem to notice Seth’s alarm as she continued staring down at the small screen, though her typing had slowed as she seemed to become distracted. She finally stopped and looked up at him, admitting, “I lied when I said those memories were a blur. They did feel like they happened years prior, but they are still very clear for me.” 

He cocked his head to the side. “How do you mean? And why lie?” 

“The incident with Ninestein is like a moment taken out of time and then slotted back into the proper place,” she began. “I know it was only days ago, but it feels like years: like it happened when I was twelve years old. You don’t remember at all?” 

“Just bits and pieces. Really blurry bits and pieces.”

Something about T.J. softened then. She stared into the distance for a moment and smiled serenely. “Do you remember finding me in the hallway the night we made the plan to dissolve Ninestein’s hold on the Christa?” 

Seth shook his head. “No. I’m sorry.” 

“I was scared. Crying in the corridor, in fact. You were carrying a rather large piece of chocolate cake and offered me some. Goodness knows where you got it. You ate it with your hands, and had frosting all over your face.” 

Seth chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “That sounds about right.” 

“And I told you how atrocious your manners were.” 

“Also sounds right,” he conceded. 

“You asked what was wrong, and I admitted I was scared. I confided in you. And you promised you wouldn’t make fun of me because, and I quote, ‘Space hates bullies.’ And then you admitted you were scared too. It would seem you and I had a bit of a breakthrough, and I thought it was,” she paused, settling on, “nice.” 

“Teej,” he said simply as he narrowed his eyes in concentration. 

Her breath hitched. “Pardon?” 

“That’s when I called you Teej.” Seth struggled to remember properly, asking, “You didn’t mind, right? You said you didn’t mind?” 

She ducked her head and smiled coyly. “I thought it was rather sweet, to be honest. You gave me that nickname, and then you pinky promised me that we would be friends. ‘I help you, and you help me,’ you said. ‘Pinky promise.’ “ 

He stared at her in awe. “How come you remember all this and I don’t?” 

“That is why I lied. Though I suppose if we are to work together for the next few years, there’s no point in me keeping such secrets from you. It is normal for me to remember things in great detail: I have an eidetic memory, you see. Though it is more of a curse than a blessing, if I am honest.” 

Seth’s eyes went wide. “So you’ve got a photographic memory?” 

Deciding how much she wanted to reveal, she continued, “I can recall texts I’ve read as if the pages are in front of me, yes.” She bit her lip and admitted, “But it my case, that ability extends to other sensory information, beyond the visual. I can also recall verbal conversations with great clarity: auditory memories." 

He was dumbfounded. “So you essentially remember… everything?”

“It sounds impressive, but I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. I can recall fond memories in great detail, but the same rules apply for bad memories as well. I am able to close my eyes and essentially relive moments of my life,” T.J. explained. “Even if you said you remembered the incident with Ninestein, I knew you would not remember it in the same way I did, to the extent that I do, and to the extent I always will. It is odd though: during that time, I couldn’t remember anything about my adult life. I had been a twelve-year-old on Mars and then I’d wound up on the other side of the galaxy, being told I was an adult that had been age-regressed. It sounded positively absurd, and I had no memory of any of it. It was terrifying. I’d always remembered everything, and then suddenly…” 

“You were in a moment taken out of time,” Seth repeated. He allowed himself to ask, “And Ninestein—our conversation in the hallway, at any rate—you shared that with me because it was...” 

“A fond memory,” she confirmed. “A slight rewrite of our personal history in which you and I met twenty-some years back. I found it to be significant. I thought you should know about it.” She took a breath and shook her head, feigning nonchalance. “I don’t expect you to remember. It’s alright that you don’t.” 

“No, it’s not. It’s really not. I wish I could remember. Thank you for sharing that with me: the memory and your secret.” 

“Please don’t tell anyone about—” 

“I won’t,” Seth insisted. “I will take your secret to the grave.” He stared down at T.J.’s compupad as he continued processing her confession. It troubled him, and he tried to be as casual as possible when he asked, “Who all knows? About your eidetic memory?” 

“Five people,” she answered confidently. “Myself, Father, my mother, my sister, and now you.” 

While he was honored to be one of the people T.J. trusted with her secret, he had to wonder, “You’re sure no one else knows?” 

“Father respects my wishes to keep it quiet. Mum always resented me for it—I would win arguments by using her own words against her—and my sister rather thinks she’s superior to me in many respects, so I do not expect her to brag about something I can do that she cannot.” 

Seth gained some bit of solace from the fact that no one in T.J.’s family was likely to mention her ability to anyone. If anyone back at the Starcademy found out… If anyone in the corrupt faction of the UPP found out... 

“My memory makes it easy to learn most things,” T.J. continued. She seemed uncomfortable talking about it as she hefted her portaputer in her hands, “I like to think of my compupad as a backup hard drive of sorts. Encrypted, of course.” 

“T.J., you’re not a machine.” 

“No, but I am able to retain information in such a way that the analogy seems appropriate.” She smiled, recalling “Mother threw a fit when I once accidentally hacked into my primary school’s database to check my grades.” 

“You did what?” Seth chuckled. “Accidentally, eh?” 

“Well, I simply had to make sure I was the top of my class.” T.J. laughed along. 

“How old were you?” 

T.J. looked away, embarrassed. “Eight.” 

“Eight?!” 

“Of course, I see now I made an error in judgment. Just because I can do something does not mean I should. But it seemed like a good idea at the time.” 

“A good idea at the time, huh?” Seth seemed distant when he offered, “That’s the way with most things, isn’t it?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Just that people make decisions and things don’t work out. Or they try to put some good into the universe and it backfires, or…” He trailed off. “Sorry. I’m rambling.” 

T.J. cleared her throat. “Should you ever wish to discuss some of the finer points of your ramblings, I’m willing to listen and help however I can. ‘I help you, and you help me.’ “ She blushed and held out her pinky. “ ‘Pinky promise.’ “ 

Seth’s response was immediate as he hooked his finger with hers, but he was still processing T.J.’s confession and trying to put the pieces together. She’d said it seemed like their conversation as children had happened years ago. Even without knowing about it—and before it had happened in a linear timeline or a rewritten one—Seth had been keeping that promise by way of protecting T.J., even (and especially) if it didn’t seem like he was helping at all.   

“I’ll do better,” he stated resolutely. “I want to help, and I try to help. I do. And I know it may not seem that way sometimes, especially when we’re not seeing eye-to-eye. So I’ll do better. I might slip up every now and then, but I will actively try to do better. Pinky promise.” 

She could do little more than nod, suddenly overcome with emotion as the sincerity of his tone registered with her. It seemed like a promise and apology dealing with something far greater than their disagreements or his irresponsible behavior back home. To distract herself and calm her nerves, she recalled the banter they’d shared before Ninestein had returned them to normal and fought back a smile. 

Seth was confused. He was vowing to protect her and she was on the verge of laughing? “What? What’s so funny?” 

“It’s just the phrase you chose: eye-to-eye,” she explained. “When we were twelve, we both figuratively saw eye-to-eye, but not literally. I was taller than you by a good measure, and you were not happy about it.” Off his look, she apologized. “I’m sorry. I will try to meet you halfway more often. I am aware I can be a,” she took a breath, “strong personality at times. I will also try to do better. We need to establish trust and put petty things aside and get these kids home safely. _That_ is our tip-top priority.” 

Seth nodded. “Agreed.” 

“And if my memory can be used as an asset to the lot of us, I will not hesitate to use it as such,” T.J. added. “Pinky promise.” 

Seth was about to curl his finger more tightly around hers, but she pulled away to boot her compupad back to life. The screen lit up and she seemed to reset herself as she sat up straight and cleared her throat, preparing to return to their top priority: the kids. 

“We have a lot of ground to cover. Where would you like to begin?” she inquired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you recognize T.J.'s fond memory, it's because I swiped it from one of my previous works, "May You Stay." You can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747825


	4. Relatively Speaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of “It’s My Birthday Too (Yeah!)” T.J. and Seth come to terms with the significance of their inclusion to the crew and try to figure out what it means for them going forward.

She was trying.

Seth knew T.J. was trying: she was trying to be better, but she was also trying his patience. She had the students’ best interests at heart, but she was going about things the wrong way with what seemed to be an ineffective “tough love” approach. Each of the students had come to Seth individually to complain about T.J.’s strict, forceful, and cold attitude lately. One of them—though no one would confess who—had retaliated by remixing the atmosphere in T.J.’s quarters with helium, leaving her voice absurdly high-pitched and prompting the kids to make quacking sounds when she entered the room. The prank grew tiresome, and T.J. was stuck with her cartoonish duck voice over a period of three days. During days two and three, she opted to use a type-and-speak program on her compupad, which only served to make her sound like a robot. By this point, the kids had started making all sorts of odd beeping and booping sound effects, which annoyed Seth, angered T.J., and confused Thelma.

In an effort to be nicer to T.J., Rosie and Bova had made her a batch of fudge as a peace offering, with the hopes that their teacher would start treating them with more respect if they showed her some. Unfortunately for T.J., the bottle of marshmallow sauce they’d been searching for looked exactly like the bottle of glue Thelma had misplaced, and T.J. had ended up with her mouth glued shut.

Seth had allowed himself to think it was a rather fitting punishment considering T.J.’s recent behavior, but quickly scolded himself. T.J. meant well. He knew she did.

But it would have been so easy.

Seth could have vented to T.J., telling her exactly how he felt about how harsh she’d been on the kids. And he had the chance to tell her everything he knew about the corruption back home without her interrupting.

“You know, Miss Davenport, I’ve had a few things I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he’d announced.

As he’d crossed to her other side to begin his diatribe, Thelma had freed her, and she’d been able to speak again. The glare she’d given him was one for the record books.

“But they can wait,” he’d decided.

She’d accused him of enjoying her pain entirely too much. “Oh those kids. When I get my hands on them, I’ll—”

“Show them that no good deed goes unpunished?” Seth finished, bitterly. She’d hit a huge nerve, and she needed to know it. “You can call me the worst teacher in the galaxy, but even I know what lessons you shouldn’t teach.”

She’d huffed at him and had the decency to look ashamed of herself as she declared, “You’ve picked a miserable time to be right about something.”

Space help him.

It would have been so easy.

After their tiff, Seth noticed a change in T.J. again, this time a complete 180 with the children. When Catalina’s imaginary friend Suzee “disappeared” a few weeks later, T.J. had come to him with her concerns.

“Catalina has finally stopped talking to her imaginary friend, and you’re upset?” Goddard had asked after a long day of engineering work, for which no one seemed thankful.

He needed to sort through his thoughts, so he’d bid T.J. goodnight without further conversation. She’d stopped him, thrusting a pile of dishes into his hands and using his own words against him, “ ‘Everyone has to do their fair share,’ Commander Goddard.”

Seth wondered if T.J.’s attitude was the result of an overcorrection in her attempt at being nicer to the crew. As annoying as it was for him, it was slightly...maternal? But if T.J. was serving as the students’ mother, then what did that make him? The answer was obvious, of course, but he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge it quite yet.

And so as he pondered this at the end of another long day, he found himself entering the Christa’s galley, immediately walking past the food wheel machine and to the beverage dispensary. He stared at the mechanism on the wall, lost in thought.

From what he’d gathered, the day had started ordinarily enough, but then T.J. assigned the students a report on their ancestry, and things snowballed from there. With little accurate information available to the general public about the differences in Andromedan culture, there was no way for her to know that Andromedans didn’t have families in the traditional way that humans or Rigelians did. Radu had been raised in the Collective in the Proxima colony with no identifiable parents. He’d been hatched from an egg in a hatchery and raised in the equivalent of an orphanage, as all Andromedans were. He’d not yet reached adulthood, so he had no idea what was expected of him as he grew older. At least, that was what Seth understood. While serving in the STARDOGS, he was told Andromedans didn’t burden their children with expectations of adulthood and what it meant to become a productive member of their society until they reached maturity. Seth supposed there was something to be said for allowing kids to be kids in some respects. And then he’d told Harlan what little he knew of the Collective structure and inadvertently made a mess of things. He assumed Radu had claimed to share a birthday with Bova to fit in and feel normal.

_Normal._

What did that word even mean anymore? 

Nothing about their current situation was “normal.” _And these poor kids are stuck with me as a role model,_ Seth lamented.

"Don't suppose you'd be willing to provide something a little stronger than coffee, huh?" he asked the ship.

After a few seconds of grinding and gurgling, the beverage dispensary spat out a tiny mug and then filled it with hot brown liquid. Goddard tentatively took a sip and made a face as the bitter drink assaulted his taste buds.

"Espresso? Not quite what I had in mind at this hour, but thanks."

He trudged over to the colorful dining table and took a seat. The doors parted behind him, but he didn’t turn to acknowledge the visitor. He stared into his overly-caffeinated beverage lost in thought and didn't register T.J.’s presence until she sat down next to him and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Commander? Are you quite alright?" she asked gently. "You look like you're light-years away."

He sighed, not quite knowing where to begin. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. He offered a shrug and a sigh of defeat as his reply.

"I can leave you alone with your thoughts, if you'd prefer," T.J. proposed, standing to leave. "But if there is anything you would like to discuss, my door is always open."

"I'm a dad," he said to the table.

T.J. stopped in her tracks and turned to face him with wide eyes and an ache in her chest. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn't that. "I, um, I was not aware that you had children," she said once she'd found her voice.

"Huh? Oh! No, no. I mean I have _these_ kids: the students," he quickly clarified, finally meeting her eyes. "It's just that all the talk of family today made me realize, as much as Radu considers us his family, I consider him—and all the kids—a part of mine, too. I wasn't given much of a choice in the matter, but we're more than just a crew out here. We're a family. And that makes me...a father."

T.J. smiled sympathetically as she reclaimed her seat. "I recently came to a similar realization regarding being akin to a mother," she revealed.

"It's scary," Seth admitted. "I don't know how to be a dad. I never thought I would be one, and now I've suddenly got five kids!"

"Five is a few more than I’d considered for myself," T.J. said, wringing her hands. Giving the matter another moment of thought, she frowned and mused, "I suppose transitioning from the role of disciplinarian to mother isn't too far a stretch under the circumstances."

"T.J., you're more than just the disciplinarian. I've seen a shift in you lately. You're becoming more patient with them, more nurturing." He smiled. "I saw the pride on your face earlier when you realized Radu saved that creature's life, like it was one of the greatest things you'd ever witnessed.

"I do believe it was," T.J. agreed.

"I thought there was going to be a baby Andromedan on this ship for half a minute, and I nearly had a heart attack," Seth confessed, shaking his head.  

"I was not going to mention it, but you did look rather terrified."

"Fantastic," he deadpanned.

She took pity on him. "Oh, Seth. Even if there had been another child to consider, we would have managed."

"It would have been _a lot_ of managing." He took a chance and asked, "At the risk of undermining crew confidence for a second time today, may I tell you something?"

T.J. cocked her head to the side. Her curiosity outweighed her apprehension, so she gave him an encouraging nod. "Of course."

"I don't think I can be a commander and a father to this crew."

She frowned at him. "Where is this doubt coming from? You've done extraordinarily well so far."

“I can't do both at once: the responsibilities of one are at odds with the other.” He pressed on, explaining, “When we get a distress signal, the STARDOG Code says it's mandatory to answer. As a commander—under normal circumstances with a standard crew—I’d follow procedure, answer the call, and send a small search party to investigate. With the kids, I'd likely be leading them into danger. I've lost crewmates before, and that kind of pain and guilt is something I never want to experience again.” His voice grew gravelly as he remembered the names and faces of those brave people and their grieving families, “The men and women who died on my watch were trained officers who knew the risks. But if I lost one of our kids... The kind of pain that would come with that? I’ve seen it, and I still can’t even begin to fathom..." His voice finally broke, and he hung his head as tears stung his eyes.

T.J. inhaled sharply. Her eyes were watery as well. “Our kids,” she repeated.

Goddard bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Mmhmm.”

She reached over to squeeze his hand. "Seth..."

"Space hates weakness," he mumbled.

"Caring about people is not a weakness," T.J. refuted. "On the contrary. Allowing yourself to care for all of us so deeply is one of the bravest things you could possibly do."

He wiped his eyes, gathered the courage to look at her again, and observed, “You’re surprisingly calm about all of this.” 

"I would not say ‘calm’ is the word for it. However I did have more time to process the revelation of sudden parenthood. Rosie accidentally called me 'Mom' about a week ago during class," T.J. explained. "She was so embarrassed, she overheated and set off the sprinkler system."

“Poor kid.” Seth narrowed his eyes in realization. "So that's why Harlan showed up for command post duty wearing swim trunks and floaties."

T.J. raised her eyebrows. She hadn't heard about that. "I should imagine he did it at Rosie's expense. The conditions in my classroom were not severe enough to warrant such attire."

"I made him go change, and I gave him two demerits."

T.J. nodded in approval before moving on, "Harlan's antics aside, the incident caused me to spend the rest of the day evaluating what Rosie’s slip of the tongue truly meant for me, and indeed for all of us and the crew dynamic."

Seth remembered, “You missed dinner once last week.”

“Yes, well, the breakdown that resulted from my revelation was quite spectacular.”

“You should’ve told me. I would have tried to help.”

T.J. brushed off his concern. “I did not want to worry you. I’ve been dealing with anxiety and panic attacks all my life. Alone, for the most part.”

“That doesn’t have to be the case anymore,” Seth told her, gently.

T.J. fidgeted in her seat, looking everywhere but at him as she tried to make light of the situation. “Next time I wind up hysterical, I shall try to keep that in mind.”

Seth dropped that particular thread of conversation, noticing her discomfort. He opted to add to the levity instead. "Bet you never thought you'd be co-parenting with me, huh?" He playfully nudged T.J. and caught her blushing. "Are _you_ going to set off the sprinkler system? Your face is almost as red as your hair."

“Goodness.” T.J. ducked her head to hide her face as a smile bloomed without her permission. When her cheeks were no longer burning and she finally looked Seth in the eyes, she was shocked by the adoration directed at her. "If I may also offer a truth?"

Their hands were still clasped on the table; a fact Seth realized when T.J. started absentmindedly running her thumb back and forth over his knuckles. He nodded his assent as he felt a sudden wave of _something_ wash over him: slight trepidation and self-pity followed by an odd sense of relief and...joy? He didn't dare look at their joined hands, afraid it would draw attention to T.J.'s actions and she'd finally retreat in embarrassment. He found he didn't want to lose that contact.

T.J. looked down anyway and her hand went limp. Seth's grip instantly tightened, fearing she would pull away. His own anxiety was palpable, and she took the nonverbal cue and squeezed his hand back, offering a small encouraging smile as she did so. Her voice was genuine and reassuring when she told him, "However accidental our inclusion may have been on this strange journey, I am honored to be a part of this family."

Seth nodded. He swallowed and agreed, "Same."

While they did not _always_ agree, they had made great progress in such a short amount of time. The realization that they had come to read each other without speaking a word made for a confusing combination of apprehension and relief.

As they contemplated this simultaneously, yet separately, Seth continued feigning nonchalance, "Y'know my dad isn’t much of a role model, but yours is. James is more of a father to me than my own."

T.J. nodded. "I suspected as much. You are like a son to him, you know."

"I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. He'd know what to do out here. More and more, I find myself wondering how he'd handle the crazy situations we get into. He was always there for me, even after my demotion. I still called him when I needed advice about...anything. We'd talk, and then he'd call back a few days later to check up on me. It was nice having that support: nice to know I wasn't a complete screw-up."

T.J. was quick to apologize, "I am deeply sorry for those times it was I who made you feel like a 'screw-up.' It was wrong of me to have passed judgment so quickly."

"No, you were fine. It's everyone else that made me feel like a failure: they heard the stories and wrote me off. Any friends I'd made while in the STARDOGS went radio silent, and the Starcademy staff hated me. You only called me out on my BS when it was warranted. Your dad did the same. You both wanted me to be a better version of myself instead of wallowing and throwing myself a pity party. I'm not sure I realized that at the time, but it's obvious looking back now." He gave her a lopsided smirk. "Like father, like daughter."

T.J. rolled her eyes, but smiled.

"I miss him." Seth admitted. "Is that weird for me to say?"

"Not at all. I miss him too."

"But he's _your_ dad. He doesn't owe me anything. There were times I felt uncomfortable relying on him as much as I did. And I still owe him so much for everything he's done to help me over the years. I don't think I could ever repay him."

“I should think getting us all home safely would be sufficient enough," T.J. declared.

"What if I can't?"

"We have already determined you are not shouldering the burden on your own."

"But what if...?" Seth's voice died in his throat as his grip on her hand tightened.

She looked away for a brief second before checking her posture, sitting up straight and feigning confidence. "Father might not be here, but you have the next best thing: another Davenport to give you advice and tell you when you're being stubborn. Someone has to keep you in line, and I do not intend to stop doing so anytime soon." She relaxed after she made her point, admitting, "I can be stubborn as well, you see."

"Nah, not stubborn. Determined," Seth decided, recalling their conversation the day they’d left the Starcademy. "One of your best qualities."

"And yours." She smiled, recalling the initial exchange as well. “ ‘Best to pick a name that makes it sound like a strength rather than a weakness.’ ”

The two of them were content to resume their usual repertoire of insults and compliments veiled in banter: business as usual after a rather emotional conversation. The verbal sparring had gained a rather affectionate undercurrent that was noticed by both but not outwardly acknowledged by either of them.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I gave you hell, and—”

“I’m stubborn, remember?”

“Determined.” He took a breath and took a chance. “I’m glad it’s you.”

“Pardon?”

And he was glad for a number of reasons. Yes, T.J. was the best equipped to assist in teaching the students, and yes Seth enjoyed her company, and yes she kept him in check. But in spite of all the insane things they’d encountered on their trip, Seth believed he was better equipped to keep her safe now out in deep space. He’d been out of his element at the Starcademy, trying to juggle his teaching responsibilities with his military career with his promise to James. On the Christa, at least he felt like he knew what he was doing...most of the time. And on the Christa, T.J. was away from members of a corrupt bureaucracy who intended to use or harm her.

“Out here. With me. I’m glad it’s you,” he clarified.

T.J. scoffed and brushed off the compliment. “It could have very well been the Headmistress,” she said with a laugh.

He didn’t laugh along. “It never would have been her. It would have only been someone who cared: it was either you or no one at all.”

“Then it would have always been me. Every time.” If she’d stayed behind and Seth and the students had vanished, she never would have forgiven herself. “But the students’ poor parents; they probably think…”

Seth cared about the kids as if they were his own, but a part of him almost felt ashamed: that he had no right to think of them that way. Not when their families back home probably already feared the worst and were grieving the loss of their sons and daughters.

“Do you think Father knows we are alright?” T.J. whispered.

Seth gave her a watery smile and deflected, “With you to keep me in line? Yeah. He knows we’re better than alright. He knows we’re safe. He knows you’re...”

“In good hands?”

“I was going to say ‘giving me hell when I deserve it.’ ”

“Of course. But only then.”

“Yeah. Only then.”

"Do you feel a bit better?" T.J. wondered. “I hope our discussion did not make matters worse.”

"I'm still scared as hell," Seth admitted honestly. He looked down at their hands again. "But I guess we can be scared as hell together, and that's...oddly comforting, I guess?"

"I am not completely sure, but I'd imagine that feeling comes with the job."

"So you're saying we're doing something right?"

T.J. squeezed his hand. "I do believe we are."

"High praise coming from you."

"It is well-deserved." A beat, then, “Father did seem to think we would work well together if we could put our differences aside. I imagine he’d be pleased to know that we are proving him right.”

Seth noticed her blushing and smirked, revealing, “He’d said something similar to me. Repeatedly, in fact.”

T.J. shook her head and smiled fondly. “I love him dearly, but he does tend to meddle. Is that perhaps how you knew my standard tea order?”

Seth laughed. “James did tell me, but I already knew.” He shrugged. “I do pay attention sometimes.”

“He encouraged me to bring a black coffee to our next scheduled meeting together,” she revealed.

“Hmm, and were you going to?” he teased.

“I might have done. But I suppose we will never know,” she playfully fired back, staring at his mug. “Speaking of: What in the universe are you doing drinking caffeine at this hour? Don't you ever want to get to sleep?”

Seth gave her a lopsided smirk. “Alright, _Mom_.”

T.J. rolled her eyes and huffed, looking a bit hurt as she muttered, “Oh, honestly.”

“I think you’d make a great one, if that helps,” Seth offered, sensing perhaps he’d said something wrong.

T.J.’s heart fluttered before sinking. “This is the closest I will ever come to motherhood: out here with the students. But thank you.”

“No. We’ll make it home, and you’ll find someone to settle down with, and then you can have insanely intelligent children with adorable accents and impeccable manners.”

T.J. was about to contradict him, but instead found herself cocking her head to the side as she realized, “Did you just say ‘adorable accents’?"

Busted. Seth winced. “No?”

"Intelligent and adorable, you said?"

"Don't read too much into it. For all you know, I was thinking those qualities would come from the kids' hypothetical father."

She blushed and then cleared her throat as she shook off the haze of emotion threatening to cloud her judgment once more. She tried to be casual and matter-of-fact when she stated, “For what it’s worth I think you would make an excellent father, if that is something you’d want for yourself. Perhaps you’d be an overly-permissive parent...”

“You mean ‘fun-loving,’ right?”

T.J. rolled her eyes but sounded defensive when she asked, “What would that make me?”

“Protective,” Seth automatically replied. “Maybe I could do with being a little more like that."

“I suppose I should learn to put a little less pressure on myself and the students.” She shook her head. “Goodness, I should have known better than to ask Radu to complete a family tree. It was not my intention to set him up for failure. I was informed that the Andromedan government had not yet sent the Starcademy his family history. It never occurred to me that had been some sort of miscommunication: that the information simply did not exist.” She paused, thinking back to earlier, “But it occurred to you.”

“While I was serving in the war, we were given some intel about Andromedans,” though he left out the qualifier, “as our enemies.” He sighed. “It was wrong of me to offer up that information to Harlan. I should have gone to Radu and asked. In fact there have been several occasions where I’ve found myself slipping up and going back to my training and making assumptions rather than acting as a supportive authority figure or guardian and just asking the kids questions. The STARDOGS didn’t know everything. But you know what they say about hindsight. I’m just glad Radu doesn’t harbor any hard feelings."

“Toward you,” T.J. finished. “He gave Harlan a rather firm handshake earlier.” She worried her lip. “I am curious about what you were told regarding Andromedan culture and their newly-established government. I’d tried to inquire after Radu’s missing intake forms on several occasions, but the rest of the Board gave me the runaround. I suspect Radu’s admittance to the Starcademy was not completely by-the-book."

Seth rubbed the back of his neck and stared down at the table. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the Starcademy fast-tracked him. Good press and all that,” was all he offered.

“Not all of it was good. I’m certain you remember there were quite a few people who set out to make Radu’s life difficult, to say the least.”

“Can we not talk about this now?” Seth requested. “Can’t we save that discussion for—?”

“Later?” T.J. finished, now wondering how exactly his training tied into whatever he’d been worrying about while teaching at the Starcademy. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“You never will.” It wasn’t a dig at her; it was a fact.

“So when will ‘later’ be, exactly?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Sometime within the next six years and change?”

T.J. held up a hand in surrender. “Just promise me you won’t allow whatever it is to eat away at you in the meantime. It cannot be healthy to bottle everything up, and I am afraid you are stuck with me as your only sounding board for a while.”

“Not stuck. I’m grateful,” Seth admitted honestly. “And I know. Just...let’s leave it for later. Please?”

“I suppose there is no point in arguing, is there?”

“Nah. I’m determined, too. Remember?”

T.J. narrowed her eyes but was unable to stop the smile that quickly spread across her face. “Quite.”


End file.
